


We Are Indeed Everywhere

by imdeansgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Closeted Character, Coming Out, Coming Out Day, F/F, F/M, Femslash, Fluff, High School, Homophobia, LGBTQ Themes, Lesbian Character, Long, M/M, Multi, National Coming Out Day, Not Beta Read, One Shot, Pansexual Character, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 21:06:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2443178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imdeansgirl/pseuds/imdeansgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Every gay person must come out. As difficult as it is, you must tell your immediate family. You must tell your relatives. You must tell your friends if indeed they are your friends. You must tell the people you work with. You must tell the people in the stores you shop in. Once they realize that we are indeed their children, that  w e  a r e  i n d e e d  e v e r y w h e r e ,  every myth, every lie, every innuendo will be destroyed once and all. And once you do, you will feel so much better.” –Harvey Milk</p><p>Jo never liked to be considered different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Are Indeed Everywhere

**Author's Note:**

> Happy National Coming Out Day! (Or, well, it was yesterday, but oh well.) Here's one of my favorite pairings that doesn't get enough love. Although, it mainly focuses on Jo's journey of discovering her sexuality and coming out. I really enjoyed writing it! (And you'll see more of this pairing from me in the future.)

Jo never liked to be considered different.

She was always just Jo: one of the girls. Daughter of the town’s mayor and the town’s bartender. Sister of esteemed MIT graduate. Queen of soccer. Best friend of Lisa Braeden, captain of the lacrosse team and head of their class. Adored by boys all over their high school (not that she cared, of course). Just Jo. Which is why, when she figured out why she found the cheerleading team so distracting, she panicked.

Jo didn’t want to be a lesbian. She still liked guys. She still thought boys were hot. She still stood by her relationship with Victor Hendrickson in freshman year. (That was one hot boy, with one incredible mouth.) She didn’t want to like girls. But she did. She thought Ava Willson—captain of the opposing school’s soccer team—was a total hottie. She noticed the panties Lisa was wearing when they changed—like, all the time. She definitely felt something about girls.

Conveniently, she found this out the week before what was apparently National Coming Out Day—October 11. So before searching “what to do if you’re a reluctant lesbian” on Google, she checked her school’s website. Lo and behold, there, on the top page, was The Announcement. Such an important announcement, it needs to be capitalized.

“LGBTQA+ CLUB’S FIRST OFFICIAL MEETING—MONDAY, OCTOBER 6TH. LGBTQA+ CLUB WILL ALSO BE MAKING AN APPEARANCE AT NEXT FRIDAY’S ASSEMBLY.”

Well… maybe she should go. Just to see how many queer kids there were in her school. She’d wear a hood, there couldn’t be too many. And definitely no one who ran in her social circle.

But there were a lot of kids there.

Like, a lot. She had to fight to get a seat in the middle. And even then, it was next to some other freak in a hoodie with the hood up and head down. Hm. So she wasn’t the only one, at least.

A girl and two boys stood at the podium. The girl had flaming red hair, a charming smile, and a shirt that said: “KEEP CALM Except Red Shirts You’re Probably Going to Die.” Jo didn’t know what that meant, but she was wearing a black sweatshirt, so she guessed she was fine. The first boy looked incredibly nervous—he was fidgeting in his spot, adjusting his band t-shirt, smoothing his jeans, running his hand through his blond-brownish hair. The boy standing next to him seemed to be quietly comforting him; he had black hair and worried eyes as he spoke to the first boy in hushed tones. 

The redheaded girl stepped up to the microphone. She gave the crowd a huge grin and said, “Welcome everyone! My name’s Charlie. I’m the co-vice president of the LGBTQA Plus Club. Wow, this is a great turn out. Um, anyways, here with me is co-vice president number two, Castiel Novak! Everyone give him a hand!” Boy Number Two waved and nodded awkwardly, while everyone applauded. “Also with us is the president of the LGBTQA Plus Club—you know him, I love him, Cas dates him: give it up for Dean Winchester!”

Everyone freaked out, and Jo can understand why. Dean is very well-known around their high school—president of several clubs (including Gaming, Mechanics, and Robotics), member of many others, head of the boys’ soccer team, and a member of student council. When Jo squinted, she could just make it out—yes, indeed, that was Dean Winchester.

Dean shifted nervously at the podium. The crowd watched him with rapt attention, tittering speculations about Dean’s queerness, and spreading the newfound gossip of his dating the youngest Novak. In all honesty, Jo could understand their blather. Not only was Dean and his apparent coming out a big deal, the Novak’s were too. Possibly even a bigger deal—the Novak boys, since there were so many, had been attending Kripke High for over a decade, and they all had their own reputation. 

It started with Michael, who graduated two years before Cas started as a freshman. He was a football player—the star quarter back. He was also very smart, and a leader. A year behind him was Luc. Luc was a skater—he was a skating star. No one beat him in the Unofficial School Skating Competitions. He was also pretty scary, so there was that. The year after Luc was Raphael, a star wrestler and head of the debate team. He was also pretty terrifying; no one messed with Raphael Novak. Or any of his family, for that matter. Raphael would kill you for that—either with his violence or his words. In the year behind Raphael was Gabriel. Gabriel was a scrawny kid, but he had bright eyes, a passion for trickery, and a quest to sleep with everyone in the entire school. But no one was ever mad at him for not being in a relationship with them—they seemed to understand. He had a certain way with words that got him out of things like that. Following Gabriel was Balthazar. Balthazar was a party animal—he did lots of drugs, drank lots of beer, and did whatever he damn well pleased with whoever he damn well pleased. He even pulled off having a British accent for his entire junior year—he didn’t even get made fun of.

And of course, the year behind Balthazar held Castiel—he’s Jo’s age. He has constant ruffled hair, a dazzling smile that could charm the pants off a baby, and huge blue eyes behind wire-framed glasses. He is a genius—captain of the chess club, the Mathletes, also a member of student council, and now, the co-vice president of the LGBTQA+ club. He’s well-known and incredibly loved all around the school. The Novak’s have a longstanding reputation of being absolutely perfect; as does Dean Winchester. A union between the Winchesters and the Novak’s will be a talk of the town—bigger than Prince William and Kate Middleton. People will talking about their relationship for years—even if it only lasts for a few weeks. If they ever get married, their wedding would probably be the most attended town event in decades.

“Attention,” Dean said, clearing his throat. The blabbering fell to a slight chatter, if not all together silent. Jo sat slumped in her chair, but still paid attention to Dean as he spoke. “Um. Hi. My name is Dean Winchester. I’m sure… most of you know me. And honestly, I know a lot of you too. So. Hi. Anyway, my name is Dean Winchester, and I’m a bisexual.” Bisexual. Jo had never heard the word. She didn’t know what it meant. She’d only ever heard homosexual and heterosexual—she mouthed the word. Bisexual. “Back there is my best friend, Charlie Bradbury. She’s a lesbian. Say hi, Charlie.” Charlie waved. “Right. And that’s my boyfriend, Cas. He’s pansexual.”

“Romantic,” Cas corrected. He said this as if it’s automatic. Dean raised his eyebrows, then gestures between a now blushing Cas and the podium. Cas stepped forward and up to the microphone. He tapped on it, as if to make sure it worked, and cleared his throat. “I’m actually panromantic,” he said. “Um, pan means… not disrespecting gender, and knowing that it fully influences a person’s identity, but not allowing it to influence your—in this case romantic—attraction to people. I’m actually a demisexual, which means only being sexually comfortable with someone you know well, or have a bond with.” He blushed again, twice as deep, and adjusted the glasses on the tip of his nose. “Um, but we should start with the basic sexualities. For which I’ll, um, hand this… back over to, uh, Charlie.”

He nervously skittered away from the microphone. Charlie, who looked like she was on the verge of laughter, stepped back up to the microphone and adjusted it to accustom her height. “As Cas was saying,” she said, “we thought we’d start off with our more basic sexualities. Obviously, the most common is heterosexuality…”

Jo learned many different new words that day. Demisexuality, pansexuality, asexuality, aromanticism, demiromanticism, tri gender, panromanticism, omnisexuality, transgender, nonbinary, agender, bi gender, omni gender, gender fluid, polysexual. But the most important word was bisexuality. It fit everything she was feeling; she never felt more complete than when Dean explained what he had felt. What he still feels. How he’s comfortable with himself and his sexuality—it doesn’t matter that he’s dating a guy. He still has feelings for girls, but he still has more feelings for Cas. 

“Alright, taking questions. Anyone?” A few people raised their hand. Jo didn’t. Not just yet. “Yes?”

“Um, how did you all… come out?”

The three were cricket silent for a while. Then Charlie stepped up; she stepped forward, towards the podium, adjusted the microphone, and spoke. “I’ve been out since I was five,” she said. “It was… certainly an interesting affair. I was sitting in the kitchen with my mom, you know. It was after my first day of kindergarten. My mom asked me if I liked any of the boys in my class, and I said, ‘No, but this girl’—I think the girl’s name was Gilda, but honestly, I can’t remember—‘is really pretty.’ And that’s how I came out. I’m actually really lucky—my parents are super supportive. Nobody freaked out, like, ever. They did send me to a support group once, though, but it wasn’t, like, a corrective program. It was just a bunch of queer teens drinking punch.”

It was silent again. “I came out in an unconventional way,” Dean blurted into the mic, breaking the silence. Charlie stepped back and he made his place on the microphone. “Um, as in, I didn’t really mean to. I had what this club will grow to call a BGP—Big Gay Panic.” Jo felt this was what described her current state. “I noticed some of the guys on the baseball team, um… looking good. And by noticed, I mean, well. You know. And if you don’t, you might be a little too young for this meeting.” The crowd giggled collectively. Dean’s good like that—makes sure everyone’s comfortable, laughing, at ease. He knows how to work people. “Anyway, uh, and of course, I noticed Cas over here—really don’t know how anyone wouldn’t notice Cas, the big blue-eyed dork—and I knew, knew I liked guys a little more than the average bear. But I figured—hey, this was normal; all teenage boys went through this… probably. So I sat down with my brother Sam—oh, and, hey, quick advertisement; if you’re not a senior, everyone vote for my brother Sam for student council next year. That kid’s gonna change this school and then the fudging world, I swear. Anyway, I sat down with Sam, and asked him if he ever, you know, thought about a BGP. And he was confused, so I explained a little what I was feeling. At the end…” Dean laughed. “At the end, and I remember this part specifically, he just looked at me and whispered, ‘You’re a homo.’” His captivated audience laughed again. “I swear! It wasn’t, like, in a bad way or anything, it was just the first thing that came to his thirteen-year-old mind. And so we discussed a little more, and then we told my mom. That was fun. ‘Uh, Mom, turns out I’m a little homo.’ She didn’t even blink. She just served us dinner and kissed me on the head. Everyone in my family is really supportive about it. My mom, my brother… they’re both really good.”

Everybody giggled and chattered as they waited for Cas to step up and tell his story. But Cas didn’t look excited, or giggly. He just looked sad. So he stepped up to the mic, and said, “Well. Not all coming out stories end happily.” He clears his throat. “As we all know, my brother, Gabriel, was a pansexual. He didn’t, um, come out to my parents. Or anyone, really. He just went about his business sleeping with whomever he pleased. Balthazar almost completely followed suit. For them, they didn’t care. But, um, I did. Coming out was kind of a big deal to me. Being panromantic—or, well, at the time, I thought I was bisexual—was… is a big deal for me. It’s part of who I am. Nothing will ever change that.” He sniffed, but continued. “Anyway, um. The Novak’s are very religious. My entire ancestry is—many of us our theologians, priests, nuns, missionaries. So when I came out, I was scared, of course. Were my parents going to disown me? Kick me out? I didn’t know. So I sat down with them and came out. And they said it was okay. They said that God loves everyone. So I’m actually very lucky, in that aspect. But I also decided to tell my extended family. Most of them… completely cut me off. But the worst.” He gave a dry laugh. It almost didn’t sound like a laugh at all; nothing was funny. It felt like something to just break up his talking. “The worst was my grandmother. I had grown up very close to her—my dad travels a lot, and my mom does charity work, so I pretty much grew up with her. When I told her… I’ll give her this, she was very calm about it—she basically told me to leave. And so I did.”

Everyone was dead silent as Cas composed himself at the podium. Dean stepped forward and took the hand that wasn’t white-knuckled from gripping the podium in his own. Cas nodded and continued.

“So that’s about it, really,” he says. “We don’t talk anymore. She doesn’t call me or send me money on my birthday. She doesn’t hang my grades up on the fridge. And the worst thing is… Every year, at Christmas time, my family—my mom, my dad, my brothers, and I—take a Christmas picture in our matching sweaters. And we have to take two—one with me. And one without me, to send to my grandmother.” He sighs. “So no. They don’t all end happily. But every dark cloud…” He glances and smiles at Dean. “Has a silver lining. I guess.”

A few minutes of silence followed. Then scattered applause. Then full-fledged applause. Cas blushed and stepped back from the podium, and Charlie stepped forward again. “Alright, anymore questions?” Hands shot up again. “Okay… yes, you?”

The three teens answered a few questions, but eventually, Charlie checked her watch and clamored up to the podium, interrupting a rousing story of Dean’s about Cas’ brother Gabriel and a slice of pie. “Sorry, sorry!” Charlie squeaked. “But time’s up! We promised we’d be off the stage by 4:25 for the drama club. But before we go, Dean would like to make an announcement. … Dean?”

“Oh, right.” Dean cleared his throat. “Next week is National Coming Out Week, and Saturday is October 11, National Coming Out Day. On Friday, October 10, we will be hosting an assembly at the end of the day. Many of us will be talking about sexuality and essentially coming out to the school. We would like some of you to step up and join the three of us.”

This sent the crowd into murmurs. Was Dean expecting them to come out to the entire school? Charlie stepped forward again. “We don’t want to push anyone into anything,” she said. “But we would like some people to stand with us. Clearly, this will take courage, and if you’re uncomfortable, you don’t have to do it.” She checked her watch again. “It’s almost 4:22! We have to go. Dean, Cas and I will all be in the hallway for any follow up questions!”

The three rush off the stage and the audience stands, all talking at once. Who was going to step up and come out? Jo certainly wasn’t. She wasn’t even sure she could come out to her mother. She stood up, suddenly feeling sick, and turned to her right to leave. She slammed right into the person next to her—that other person with the hoodie. She said, “Hey, pal, watch where you’re going” the same time someone else said, “Oh, well excuse me.” And that voice felt all too familiar, so she looked up and—

Anna Milton. One of the cheerleaders she may have mentioned earlier—the ones with the short skirts and nice butts? In fact, the most notable cheerleader. Her eyes are green and large, and her red hair is long and gorgeous. Jo wanted to play with it—braid it and put flowers in it. Stop with the homo, her mind hissed. No homo. For the moment.

“S-sorry,” Jo said. She felt her face heat up. Whoops.

“No, it’s my—um.” Anna nods behind her. “I’m going to go.”

“Yeah. Same.”

They ran the opposite directions of each other, awkwardly shuffling past the theater seats on their way out. Was Anna a lesbian? Did it really matter to Jo? If it did, why did it? Did she want to date Anna, or have sex with her? Why was she thinking about sex with Anna Milton? 

She stepped out into the hallway and felt a hand tug her to the side. “Hey!”

“Oh. Hi.”

Despite her flaccid response, Charlie grinned at her. “I saw you in there. Your name’s Jo, right?” Jo nodded quickly. “You’re in my geometry class. Anyway, I was wondering if maybe I could convince you to step up at the assembly next Friday?” Jo’s eyes widened. What. “I mean, just if you wouldn’t mind. There aren’t many girls willing to step up, I’d be one of the only ones there…”

“Um, I’ll think about it. I—I have to go.” She spun around and left, Charlie calling meekly after her. She went home, ate an uncomfortable dinner, and went to bed.

The next day was Tuesday. Jo was freaking out, to say the least. Friday was coming quickly, and now that her BGP was slowly ending, she had the COP on her mind—the Coming Out Panic. She felt like she shouldn’t keep this to herself. She felt it running through her veins at every single moment. She felt it when Charlie caught her eye in geometry. She felt it when she saw Anna Milton in the halls. She felt it when she saw Dean chatting to Cas during lunch. She felt it when she talked to Lisa about almost nothing. (Or it seemed like nothing, anyway.) She felt it when she popped into her mom’s office after school. She felt it when she went to her dad’s bar to play pool and do homework. 

She felt like she was lying. She certainly wasn’t telling the truth—lying by omission. She wasn’t telling anyone she liked girls, so she wasn’t telling the truth. Every moment Lisa chattered on about boys and lacrosse and volleyball, maybe she’d do volleyball, and would Jo like to try out for summer volleyball, Jo felt sick. Sick to her stomach. Sick of herself.

So in geometry class on Wednesday, Jo passed Charlie a note.

>Meet me in the auditorium after school?

Charlie took it, read it, and nodded to her.

Because of this, the rest of Jo’s day went by in a dizzy haze. The only times she could remember were the ones where Charlie caught her eye in the halls and nodded to her, or when she saw Anna. Because who wouldn’t remember seeing Anna?

At the end of the day, Jo sat on the edge of the stage, swinging her legs idly. She was waiting for Charlie, wherever she may be. She couldn’t wait to get this all out in the air, whatever it was. She needed help. She needed…

“What’s up, bitches?”

Jo turned to see Charlie walking towards her from the side of the stage. She smiled and waved, then plopped down next to Jo on the side of the stage. “So,” she said. “What did you want to talk about?”

“The… the meeting. Mostly.”

Charlie nodded. “I thought so. Didn’t think this was about geometry homework, to be honest. So what’s up?” 

Jo took a deep breath, then sighed. “I’ve done my BGP,” she said. “It’s over. I think. And I know what fits me. But I’m afraid of… coming out.” 

She glanced at Charlie, who didn’t say anything for a moment. She just contemplatively looked at the ground. Finally, she looked up at Jo. “Why’s that, Jo?” 

Jo huffed and crossed her arms. “Why do you think?” she asked. “I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed this, Charlie, but gay girls aren’t exactly accepted. When was the last time you saw girls fighting over having a lesbian best friend? When was the last time there was a show about a bisexual girl who wasn’t seen as slutty?”

Charlie shrugged. “Since when was being a slut a bad thing?” she asked, winking.

“You know what I mean,” Jo said, huffing and rolling her eyes. “We may be sexualized, but normalized? No. We’re rejected by society. ‘Dyke.’ ‘Slut.’ ‘Whore.’”

Charlie nodded. “Yeah. Well, kiddo, you’re gonna have to deal with it if you’re gonna be it.” She shrugged. “It’s the way it is, unfortunately.” She looked up at Jo. “And wouldn’t you rather deal with it sooner rather than later?”

She had a point. “Okay. So what do I do now?”

“Come out,” Charlie said, simply. “One by one. Take it slow. Start with someone you think will take it well. Maybe come out to someone online, first. Work your way up.” She put her hand on Jo’s shoulder. “Baby steps, Jo.”

“Baby steps.”

Charlie nodded. Then, using Jo’s shoulder as leverage, she pushed herself up to a standing position, and lent her hand to Jo as well. Jo stood, but Charlie didn’t let her go. Instead, she pulled Jo out towards the school’s exit. “Where are we going?” Jo asked, brows furrowed.

“To eat.”

“…Why?” 

“Because, although Dean Winchester is very close, it seems as if you and I are both in desperate need of a lesbian best friend. And it is now my personal mission to become yours and you mine.”

“Okay. But… I’m not a lesbian.”

“Oh? And what are you?”

Jo swallowed. Should she say it out loud?

“Jo?”

“Sorry. Saying it feels like… finalizing it. You know?”

Charlie pulled her to the side, sliding to a stop, and put both her hands on Jo’s shoulders. “The first step, Jo,” she said, “is admitting to yourself you’re a little queer. You don’t have to put a title on it, but if it makes you feel more comfortable? Do it.”

Jo sighed. “Bisexual.”

Her whole body felt lighter. It was as if a million weights lifted from her shoulders. She stood up a little straighter (ha! Ironic), she smiled a little wider. She felt free of all the lies. She felt like Joanna Beth Singer.

Charlie grinned. “Brilliant,” she said. “Just brilliant.”

(That night, when Jo went home, she changed her Facebook to: "Looking for men AND women." It was a start. Baby steps.)

The next day, Thursday, Jo planned to tell Lisa and her parents. But the problem with Lisa was the timing. It felt weird to do it during a class. (“Do you have the answer to number one? Also, I like vagina sometimes.”) Same went with lunch—incredibly public and unescapable. So she asked Lisa to go to a diner with her after school. She agreed, because this was a normal thing for them. But she had no idea Jo was about to drop a bomb on her.

They ended up going to the Roadhouse, simply because they ate there for free. (It being Jo’s dad’s bar, and all.) They sat in a booth in the corner, their favorite, and ordered their usual—cheese fries, one Pepsi (for Lisa, the traitor), and one Coke. Lisa looked at her oddly as their food was put down. “You okay?” she asked. “You seem… jumpy today.”

Jo shrugged. “Nervous,” she said. 

“Why’s that?”

Jo felt her chest tighten at Lisa’s concerned gaze. What if Lisa never looked at her like that again? What if Lisa thought she was some… disgusting pervert? Especially because they’d grown up together for years. What if Lisa thought she was always checking her out? She couldn’t lose her friendship with Lisa. She really couldn’t. Lisa was her rock.

She felt the emotions pushing and pushing at her. She felt it in her chest and in her shoulders and in her head and on her cheeks as tears spilled down them. “Jo? Oh crap. Come on, sweetie.” Lisa helped Jo up and pushed her into the bathroom, Bobby Singer looking curiously after them. After locking the door to make sure Jo’s dad couldn’t follow, Lisa and Jo sat on the floor, Lisa blotting at Jo’s tears with her sweater. “What’s wrong, darling?” she asked, frowning. “I can’t watch you cry. It’s like Big Ben being ten minutes slow. It defies logic.” Jo huffs a small laugh. “It’s like… Pluto being a planet again!”

Jo full out snorted. Pluto’s planetary status is something she and Lisa always play-argued over; one of their dorkier topics. Jo was for it, and Lisa was against it. “It’s a dwarf planet! It fits right in with the other dwarves; it can stay that way.”

“Lisa, I have something to tell you.”

“Yeah, I got that from the tears,” Lisa joked. She wiped more tears away. “Can you tell me? Or do you want to play Charades? Maybe Pictionary?”

Jo laughed. “Stop joking, asshole, I have something to tell you.”

Lisa smiled. “Go for it, then! My wit isn’t stopping you.”

Jo nodded, but then her emotions and anxiety hit again all at once. She took a deep breath, and her tears started falling again. But she would remain composed. She had shit to get done. “Promise you won’t get mad?”

Lisa put her hand up to her heart. “Cross my heart and hope to die,” she said, solemnly.

“Alright… Lis. I’m bi.”

There was a moment where there was silence. A full minute passed where there was only silence. And Jo’s mind puttered on. Oh my god what the fuck I’m such a freak why did I say that why couldn’t I keep it to myself I would have lived I’m so stupid so so stupid—

“Is that all?! You scared me half to death! Come here.”

Lisa yanked her forward into a hug, putting Jo’s head on her shoulder. And just like that, Jo was crying again. Loud, gross sobbing, probably getting it all in Lisa’s hair and shirt. Lisa pet Jo’s long hair, whispering into the crown of her head. “I love you, sweetie. It’s okay, it’s okay… I’m really proud of you, darling, okay? I love you so much.”

Jo and Lisa spent twenty minutes crying and laughing in that bathroom.

It was later that night when Jo wished she were back on the Roadhouse’s dirty bathroom floor. It was time to tell her parents. She chose to tell them over dinner. They were having her dad’s world famous steak and mashed potatoes, followed by her mother’s pie. Her mother had one of the two best pies in the state. (The other was Mary Winchester’s.) Ellen had just arrived home from a long day of doing whatever it was a town mayor actually did. Her mother and father made idle chat about their days and Jo’s upcoming soccer games. The secret was weighing in on Jo’s brain and eventually she’d had enough. So she said, “Mom, Dad, I have something to say.”

They both looked to her. “Sure thing, sugar,” Ellen said. “Go for it.”

“We’re listening,” Bobby agreed in his gruff drawl.

“Okay, well. Here goes. Um. I’m bi.”

Her parents just blinked at her. Then it apparently hit her mother, whose face softened. “Oh, honey,” she smiled. “That’s wonderful for you.”

“What’s that?” Bobby asked.

They both looked at him. Ellen picked up an oven mitt and whacked him with it. “Bobby Singer, you can’t just ask ‘what’s that.’ It means bisexual.”

Bobby looked contemplative for a minute, then shaped his lips in an ‘o’. “I see,” he says, nodding.

“I just… I just thought you needed to know,” Jo blurted. “I mean, I told Lisa today—“

“Is that where y’all went off to? Joanna Beth, please tell me you did not—did not… in my bar?”

Jo scrunched up her nose. “No. Ew. I couldn’t be less attracted to Lisa if I tried. No. We just talked. Then she went home.”

Bobby couldn’t have looked more relieved. “Thank God.”

“Alright,” Ellen said, clapping. “Well, this is cause for celebration. Time for pie and horror movies to celebrate Jo. It’s her night.”

Jo thought that was a little ridiculous, but they all settled in on the couch with apple pie to watch one of Ellen and Bobby’s favorite date movies from their childhood. It was a cheesy horror movie with a badly animated monster, but it made them all laugh. Jo fell asleep with her head in her mother’s lap with her legs up on her father’s.

The next day was Friday.

The day to come out to the entire school.

It had been a long week. Jo had found her sexuality, come out three times to four people, and recognized that she had developed a crush on Anna Milton. And now, to top it off, she would come out to everyone she’d ever known. Wonderful.

She told Lisa in first period, and Lisa promised she’d clap for Jo the loudest. She deserved it. And she guaranteed that everyone else would clap for Jo, too. Because her sexuality wouldn’t matter to anyone; it was her personality and talent that made her liked. Jo couldn’t help but bot believe her. But still; hearing Lisa say this gave her hope.

She spent the whole day in anxiety, until, right before the assembly, they called for the names of the people being featured. She happened to be on the list.

When they filed out of last period, Jo cut towards the auditorium. She was headed down the stairs when she was cut off. By none other than Anna.

“Are you going to come out during the assembly?” she asked, owlish eyes concerned.

Jo nodded. “Yeah. I think it’ll be good for me.” She bit her lip. “Are… you?”

She knew Anna wasn’t, because her name wasn’t called. So it was no surprise when Anna shook her head, but it did dishearten her. “No.” She smiled, a little shyly. “Guess I’m not quite as brave as you are.”

Jo laughed and shrugged. “Don’t think I’d call it brave,” she admitted. 

“What, then?”

“Maybe stupid.”

Anna laughed too. “I think it’s incredible, Jo,” she said, smiling. “I think you’re incredible.”

Jo grinned and shuffled her feet. “Naw,” she said. “I’m just a dumb country girl who happened to be queer and stupid.”

When she looked up, she found Anna smiling and shaking her head. Then, something unexpected happened. Anna raised her hand. She hesitated, as if she didn’t know where to put it. She went for her shoulder, then her hair, then to her shoulder again. Then, finally, she moved it to her cheek. “I think you’re amazing,” she whispered, smiling. Then she leaned forward and placed a kiss on Jo’s cheek. Slightly right of where Jo personally wanted it, but still. It worked. Jo got butterflies. “Kill it. Okay? Kill it for all the wimps like me who are afraid of their reputation.” Jo nodded. “I have faith in you, Jo.”

With that, she pulled back, smiled, and went down the stairs. After a few seconds, Jo followed suit and headed backstage. 

Dean, Charlie, and Cas were at the speaker. Charlie glanced her way, grinned and waved excitedly. Jo smiled and gave a meek wave back. Charlie was a good person, to be honest. Jo liked her geeky enthusiasm. And she was cute. That was a bonus.

Jo looked around at the other people with her. Two boys were holding hands and conversing nervously. They looked worried. A girl with wild black hair looked generally bored with everyone and popped her gum every now and then. Another girl with long brown hair spoke to another girl with black hair. They both looked murderous. And finally, an Asian boy nervously pulled at his sweater and darted his eyes around. Jo was in great company. ((SARCASM))

She hadn’t even noticed Dean had begun speaking until she was done looking at everyone. “My name is Dean Winchester,” he was saying. “And I’m the president of the newly formed LGBTQA plus club. We are here. We are queer. We exist.” Everyone in the crowd was murmuring. “My name is Dean Winchester. I’m the president of a few clubs. Member of a couple others. Student council member. Head of the boys’ soccer team. I’m a senior. And I am a bisexual.”

There were gasps. And then applause. Lots and lots of applause. Cas stepped up to the mic next. “My name’s Castiel Novak. The Novak’s Novak. I’m a senior, and I am demisexual.” 

More applause. Dean stepped back up. “And I’m dating him! I’m dating that guy!”

Whoa. Jo didn’t know there were enough hands to clap that hard. Charlie was next. “My name’s Charlie Bradbury. I’m a senior. And I’m a lesbian.”

Upon hearing Charlie’s applause, the Asian boy straightened his back and shuffled towards the microphone. “My name’s Kevin Tran; senior. And I’m asexual.”

That was Kevin Tran? President of the student council and the senior class? Co-head of the Mathletes? That Kevin Tran? These are all pretty influential people at their school. Even Charlie is head of the newspaper, making her queerness pretty big news. (Get it?) Did that mean… Jo was considered influential?

The brunette girl followed. “My name’s Bela Talbot, a junior, and I’m a pansexual.” Bela Talbot is possibly the richest girl in school. Very important.

Her friend followed. “My name’s Meg Masters! Senior, here. I’m a pansexual too.” Meg is the biggest badass in their year; everyone knows that. 

The girl popping her gum was next. “My name is Cassie Robinson. Senior. I’m asexual.” Cassie Robinson is head of the drama club. She’s really good friend with Lisa. That is huge news.

It was time for one of the boys to go. They had been clutching each other’s hands this whole time, and they looked shaken and forcibly separated. The lighter-haired one went first. “My name’s Adam Milligan, I’m a junior, and I’m gay.” Adam Milligan, AKA: the football team’s leading quarterback? THAT Adam Milligan? Oh, okay. No big deal.

His boyfriend followed. “My name is Samandriel Milton. I’m a junior, and I’m pansexual.” Samandriel Milton? Anna had a brother? And it was that kid? And he was queer?

Jo was reeling when she realized: shit. This was it. She was up.

With shaking hands, she took long, full strides to the podium. She heard a few gasps when she stepped out, but she took it in stride. She gripped the podium and looked out at the crowd. Anna was in the first row, and she gave her a dazzling smile. You can do this. 

“Hi,” she said, and swallowed. “Hi. My name’s Joanna Singer. And I’m… a bisexual.”

Silence. And then, simultaneously, two people stood up and started shouting: Anna and Lisa. Then everyone started clapping wildly. Jo blushed and ducked her head. But she’d done it. She came, she saw, she conquered. And it felt amazing.

She stepped back into the line the others had formed, and Dean stepped forward again. “The club is hoping to show you that we’re everywhere,” he said. “We’re your children, your parents, your friends, your classmates, your lovers. We are, indeed, everywhere. So. If you’d like to come out. Here’s your chance.”

There was dead silence. Then, a tiny voice called out:

“My name’s Anna Milton! I’m a senior. And I’m bisexual!”

Jo grinned, then hooted and clapped.

Jo never liked to be considered different. But maybe, for Anna, for herself, she would.


End file.
